I remember when I was younger, my mom telling me that the boys don’t own me, but they feel an obligation when it comes to my well-being. I hated it then, and I hate it now. Sure, it’s all cute when your friends and your boyfriend are willing to fight for you, but not anymore. It’s juvenile, and I’m over it.
I come to a stop at the Ferris wheel. My heart is working overtime as I heave shallow breaths in and out. I desperately need/try for calm. Too many feelings.
Smiling at the young kid running the attraction, I blindly hand him a five-dollar bill from my pocket. I shrug him off as I approach the open basket. The night is winding down and the Ferris wheel is near empty, so that five should give me more than a couple rounds.
As I climb inside, I can see Caiden running toward me.
“Caiden, don’t you fucking dare!” I shout.
He shakes me off, approaching the teen who is having a hard time hiding his smile.
“Don’t let him on!” I shout, but when Caiden hands over a crisp twenty-dollar bill, that most definitely trumps my five, all the kid can do is shrug.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
Caiden walks over to the basket, smug and stern. “You gonna scoot over?”
I turn away, staring in front of me rather than at him. “There are lots of other empty baskets.”
“Hailey…” he says, and I hate it when my name tumbles off his tongue like a steady drop of summer rain rolling over a leaf.
“What?” I reply, clipped, but I scoot over just the same.
Bittersweet, it’s the only way I can describe Caiden. How can he go from heartbreaking, to supportive and charming, then rocket back to being an utter asshole all in the same evening?
“Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn,” he whispers to himself as he scoots inside, locking the small gate, keeping us in.
I hate that the entire length of my body is touching his in the bench seat. It makes it hard to think.
The rickety metal Ferris wheel begins to move, lifting us upward, and I take in that crisp, leveling breath I so desperately need.
“What was that about?” Caiden asks.
“You’re kidding me, right? Because this is your fault.”
He snorts, sitting back as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I shake my head, wishing my existence was that easy. The jerk.
“Calm down, Hailey.”
I’m anything but, and because of this I choose not to respond, staring off into the distance and letting out a not-so-surprised huff when the Ferris wheel stops with us at the top.
He lets the silence hang, too, and proving his point earlier, my stubbornness wins out when he loses his patience.
“So, are you gonna call him?”
My lips twitch as I try to hide my smile. “Who?” I ask.
He grumbles, and I know he hates this, and it serves him right. It’s about time I get some company with this irrational hatred. “C’mon. Are you?” he asks again.
I turn to see his face set in a hard line, and I hate even more that that also pleases me. “Yeah, I’m thinking I might.”
Wait, am I?
Before I can add more of an instigating caveat he says, “I don’t even know what he’s doing in town.”
I guess I don’t know why either, but I’ll make it my mission to find out. “He was nice.”
“Nice?” Caiden grumbles. “How can you say that? Do you have any idea how many times my fist has met his face and vice versa?”
I giggle. “Yeah, I do. He isn’t the same guy now.” This is something I have no evidence for other than a five-minute conversation, but I roll with it.
“He obviously still has the hots for you.”
I snort. “Shut up, Caiden. Gabe Samuels never had a crush on me. Now you’re just making shit up.”
“Well, I must have done a pretty good job hiding that one then, or it might have made it into your book among a slew of other things,” he hums. “Why the hell do you think I got into so many brawls with him, combined with the fact Brandon hated his guts?”
I’m shell shocked, my mouth going agape as I stare at Caiden, who looks anything but amused. “I never knew that.”
“I hated the way he talked about you in the locker room. I used to think it was just to get to me because he knew we were dating in high school. Ya know, thinking he did it to psych me out before practices? Guess I was wrong…” He pauses to stare at my mouth, and it has my heartbeat beginning a hard, heavy rev like an engine within my chest. “… Are you smiling over Gabe Samuels right now?”
“Are you angry right nooowww?” I ask, dragging out the tone of my words in defensive embarrassment.
“No.” He looks away, out into the abyss of the night sky, his jaw back to that tight clench I remember seeing down at the picnic table.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” I try my best to not sound like a snotty teenager.
He releases a sigh. “On the dance floor with CeeCee.”
Oh, so she’s with my best friend, I think, and then I remember that I’ve been gone a long time and that CeeCee and Kristen are probably friends, and that I might be the one interrupting the dynamics of the group friendships. This thought gives me a nasty taste in my mouth.
“She isn’t wondering where you’re at?”
He lifts his hand to fiddle with his bottom lip, like he’s been doing since we were teens, the same maneuver he couldn’t help when we were at the bar when he’d stare. This is Caiden thinking, while at the same time attempting to be considerate. It’s a Caiden trait.
“She’s self-sufficient,” he replies.
I hate that the statement makes Kristen seem smart, independent, and not the jealous type. Self-sufficient means she isn’t worried about Caiden, because she trusts what they have. I wonder if he loves her.
I’m hating this evening more and more. I try to change tack.